Macro Musings
by wispykitty
Summary: BZRK fanfic: A study of Vincent and Nijinsky. Their past, present, and possible futures. Will include other members of BZRK here and there, but the focus is on these two.
1. Apart: Vincent

**Title** Vincent  
**Fandom** BZRK  
**Characters** Nijinsky, Vincent, Wilkes  
**Pairing** Jin/Vincent (one sided, and not super evident)  
**Summary **Jin is not Vincent, but if he was, maybe things would have turned out differently.  
**Author Notes** I wrote this upon finishing the book because I had this burning desire to see just a little bit more, and because I was completely destroyed by Michael Grant's description of Vincent's break down on the sidewalk. It ruined me in the best of ways.  
**Disclaimer** Michael Grant is a God among men, and I'm just borrowing his boys for a little while, hoping to do them at least a little justice.

* * *

He wasn't Vincent.

He knew that, had always known it, had always held him a little in awe because of it. Maybe, if there wasn't all of this surrounding them, if they were just strangers passing by in the street, it would be different. There was something about Vincent, something in his eyes, and it was fascinating - half because of what they told you, and half because of what they hid.

Vincent was an enigma. He was the ultimate nanosoldier.

And Jin hadn't been able to save him.

Because he wasn't Vincent.

* * *

"How is he?" Wilkes asked, looking somewhat improved from the last time Jin had seen her.

He shrugged. "Better, I guess," he replied, though it wasn't entirely true. "I don't know, Wilkes. Sometimes he's okay, sometimes he's not."

Wilkes nodded, unusually respectful of Jin's internal struggle. "Is Anya with him?" She asked, and if she'd been a little more perceptive at the moment, if she wasn't distracted by the sting of the still-present burn scars on her body, she would have noticed the pained look on Jin's face. Or maybe she wouldn't.

"No," Jin said, "She's out with Caligula."

At that Wilkes looked confused. "With Caligula?"

Jin realized it sounded worse than it was. "They're just stocking up on groceries."

"Oh," Wilkes replied, not really relieved (because while Anya held no meaning to her personally, she was kind of responsible for Renfield getting shot, but Wilkes was trying to move on) but still kind of pleased that there wouldn't be another body to dispose of, not yet at any rate. The group had lost enough as it was. "Is he talking?" She pressed on, wondering how they were possibly going to carry on without Vincent. It had been a blow, losing Kerouac, and then, of course, Renfield, and she still hadn't fully grasped what it meant to lose the Indian and Chinese cells. But everyone knew that Vincent was the key. He was the head. Cut him off, and how could they hope to combat AFGC?

"Sometimes," Jin replied, but didn't bother elaborating.

Wilkes just nodded. "Well, that's a start, I guess. I was going to go and check on Ophelia. See if she's doing any better."

Jin nodded, not really wanting to think about Ophelia. No legs. Like Vincent's biot he'd had to carry out of the president's head. He closed his eyes for a second, not that it did any good. The visuals were ingrained.

"So, I'll be there if you need me," Wilkes said, but lingered. Oh, how she hated this! "Listen, Jin?" She waited until he looked at her, a look in his eyes that clearly told her to get on with it. "You brought him back, Jin. He's alive and as sane as possible because of you."

Jin just nodded, though inside he was screaming. He watched as Wilkes walked away until he was left standing outside of Vincent's room, alone.

Vincent might be alive and somewhat coherent because of him, but Vincent was also struggling, barely floating on the brink of reality, and that was his fault too.

Because he wasn't Vincent. He wasn't that good, and he wasn't that fast.

He'd rescued Vincent, but he hadn't _saved_ him.

* * *

"No," he mumbled, sleeping lips forming the word over and over again, barely audible but definitely there. "No, no, no," he continued, head starting to shake and breath coming in short gasps. "No, no no no nonononono-"

"Vincent," a hand gripped his shoulder hard, maybe a little too hard, but that's what paranoia did to a guy. "Wake up."

And he did. Eyes flew open, looking terrorized and panicked, but then he relaxed. "Jin," he said, breaths coming more slowly now. "Jin," he repeated, his voice shaky.

Shaky but aware. That was something, at least. "Reliving it again?" Jin asked, though he wished he hadn't. Of course Vincent had been reliving it. It was the only thing he seemed to see anymore.

"Bug Man," Vincent said softly, no hint of anger or malice. Just awareness.

"Yeah, Bug Man," Jin replied, reaching out to stroke Vincent's cheek.

"I'm sorry," Vincent said suddenly, and Jin just stared at him in confusion.

"Sorry for what?" He asked, curious. This was new.

"For losing," Vincent said quietly, "For Anya, for Keats and Plath."

Jin swallowed hard, wanting to lean forward, wanting to grip and hold and just not let go. But he was Vincent now, until Vincent could be Vincent again (if he could) and Vincent didn't surrender to base emotions. "Don't be sorry," he said, because what else was there to say?

Vincent was silent again after that, his eyes closing and Jin left his hand there, stroking the other man's face, because that was all he could allow himself at the moment. When Vincent seemed to relax back to sleep minutes later, Jin finally lifted his hand and stood up. It was overwhelming, this urge of his, to go into Vincent's head, to fix everything.

But Lear had said no. Lear wouldn't allow it, not right now. It was Vincent's job to fix himself, not Jin's. And if Vincent couldn't do it, then Caligula.

Better not to think of the second option yet.

He left the room, closing the door behind him and walking down the hall to the bathroom. It was late night and everyone should be sleeping now. But he turned on the water anyway and sank down to the floor, tears coming to his eyes. Unsurprising, really, because he hadn't let himself grieve yet. There had been too much to do.

Vincent was here, he was alive.

But he was broken, and that was Jin's fault. Jin's fault because he wasn't good enough. Jin's fault because he wasn't Vincent.

"I'm so sorry Vincent," he whispered, wishing he could have said it back in the room, but knowing it wouldn't have made a difference.

None of it made a difference.


	2. Despair

**Title** Despair  
**Fandom** BZRK  
**Characters** Nijinsky, Ophelia (mentions of Vincent and Lear)  
**Summary** Vincent's breakdown has taken more out of Nijinsky than he thought it would, and it's made him come to some startling realizations.  
**Author Notes** A follow up to _Vincent_

* * *

It was late at night when Jin found himself in Ophelia's room, sitting in a chair at her side. He'd been to see her twice, but never for long. She was still being heavily sedated, Wilkes' and Plath's biots working to keep her legs from getting infected. At least what was left of her legs.

He reached out and took her hand, fingers squeezing her palm. "Hey, Ophelia," he said softly, other hand reaching out to brush over her face. "Hope you don't mind, but I really need to talk to you. I'm kind of out of options here," he said, biting his lip to keep from letting out what he feared would be a most undignified sob. It didn't matter that Ophelia was drugged unconscious - he still had an image to uphold.

"It's Vincent," he said, "He lost a biot. You've known Vincent as long and as well as I have, Ophelia. You know how he is. This world of ours is all he has, fighting in the meat is the closest I ever see him to being happy. So you can imagine what it's doing to him. He's a ghost."

He paused there, feeling stupid for just a second. Here he was, middle of the night, about to spill his heart out to someone who was unconscious. And had no legs. Fuck that was disturbing to think about. Ophelia, who'd always been such a pillar of calm strength in the eye of the BZRK storm, and she'd been cut down. How would she cope upon waking up? Was she going to be lost too, just like Vincent?

It was all too much. But Jin couldn't afford to break down, there was no time and no one else. He had to be in control. So many lives depended on it. "Lear doesn't want me to rewire Vincent," he said softly, his tone nearly conspiratorial. "But I can't leave him, Ophelia, not like this. Lear wants Vincent to come back from this on his own, but I don't think he can. I don't think he knows how to. So I'm going to ignore orders, Ophelia."

He paused again, letting that sink in. He was going to disobey Lear.

"I'm going to fix him, Ophelia, because we need him. We need Vincent. I don't care what Lear has to say, Vincent is vital to this group." Pause, a few deep breaths, and then - "I love him, Ophelia. It's stupid, I know. I don't even know if it's actually him I love, or what he represents for me. Power and control and security. He's been there for me since I started. He was my mentor. He's still my friend. And I can't let him waste away and die, Ophelia. So I don't care what Lear has to say. I am going to save Vincent."

He stood up then, squeezing her hand one last time before placing it back on the bed. "Thanks for the talk," he told her, before heading for the door and down the hall to Vincent's room. He had work to do.


	3. Hatred

**Title** Hatred  
**Fandom** BZRK  
**Characters** Nijinsky (mentions of Vincent and Bug Man)  
**Summary** Hatred is a strong emotion, and it's one Nijinsky has always been careful about.

* * *

There weren't many people Jin hated. He disliked a lot of people, and there were numerous people he thought the world was better off without. But hatred was strong, and it was personal, and maybe that was why he didn't hold much of it.

Because he didn't want to invest himself so personally. He didn't want to bother making that kind of a connection when it would only bring him down.

But he hated Bug Man. He hadn't hated him before, perhaps because he'd never actually faced him. He'd come awfully close to hating him when he'd taken out Kerouac - but even that he was removed from, because it was just business.

But now it was personal, because this time he'd been there. This time he'd watched, he'd seen everything, he'd seen Bug Man's nanobots dismantling Vincent's biot, and he'd realized that to Bug Man, it wasn't just a job. He hadn't just wanted to beat Vincent - he'd wanted to destroy him.

And that's what he'd done.

And now Jin sat at Vincent's side every second he could spare, and every time he whispered _Bug Man_ Jin felt every hair on his body bristle, he felt his stomach muscles clench and he felt his fists become balls and all he wanted to was pound them repeatedly into the kid.


	4. Pain

**Title **Pain  
**Fandom** BZRK  
**Characters** Nijinsky, Vincent  
**Summary**Jin has never really been able to understand Vincent, but he's determined to try.  
**Author Notes** The concept of Vincent eating spicy foods to combat his anhedonia is one that Michael Grant explored in the book, and it fascinated me, so I wanted to bring it up myself.

* * *

They'd gone out for dinner once at an Indian place, and Jin had been surprised when Vincent had ordered vindaloo, the hottest thing on the menu. He hadn't asked then, though, but later, when the food came and Vincent ate and Jin saw him sweating and coughing. Then he'd asked him why.

Why eat something when it so obviously causes you pain and discomfort?

Their relationship had been a little different then. Jin was still fairly new, and Vincent was not. Vincent didn't trust him fully at that point, which Jin had never taken personally. So when Vincent hadn't answered right away, Jin had just shrugged and gone back to eating his own food. It wasn't until later, when Jin ordered dessert and Vincent didn't, that he answered.

Vincent had asked him why he'd ordered pistachio ice cream, and Jin (who hadn't been certain at that point if it was some kind of test or not) had answered that it was because he liked the flavour.

Vincent had then gone on to explain that he couldn't approach food that way, because the concept of liking a flavour held no meaning for him. While sweet things tasted different from salty, neither of them really made much of an impact on him when he ate. But hot foods, spicy foods - those gave him a reaction. He couldn't take pleasure from food, but he could take pain, and if given the choice between nothing and pain, he'd take the pain, just because it was _something_.

Jin hadn't understood then, and he still wasn't sure he understood now. But whenever he was out stocking up on supplies, he always made sure to pick up hot peppers or hot sauce for Vincent. Just to show that even though he didn't understand, he still cared, and above all – he listened.


	5. Broken: Closest Thing To Love

**Title** Closest Thing To Love  
**Fandom** BZRK  
**Characters** Vincent, Nijinsky  
**Pairing** Nijinsky/Vincent  
**Summary** Sometimes we do things out of necessity, even though we know they may lead us down a path we don't wish to venture upon.  
**Author Notes** Had to write this and explore the idea because there's too much between them for feelings not to exist on some level.

* * *

It had been far too close of a call for Jin's liking, though of course it was pointless to say that to Vincent. But just because it was pointless, that didn't mean that Jin wouldn't.

"You should be more careful," he said, because that was how this conversation always started.

"I would if I could, but there was no time," Vincent replied, lying in a ball on the bed. Despite the fact that he was huddled beneath every blanket in the room (and that Jin had the heat blasting, even though the younger man had stripped down to his boxers because he himself was too warm) Vincent still felt chilled. He knew it had nothing to do with his actual body temperature but instead was of a psychological nature. He'd nearly lost V1 in a struggle with one of AFGC's twitchers (probably Burnofsky) but had come out alright in the end.

But now he was stuck waiting for V1 to return. Caligula was doing the withdrawal, but it still made Vincent sick to his stomach, sitting there plugged into the optics, updating Caligula on the location of the target.

Jin had an argument prepared, right there on the tip of his tongue, but when he looked at Vincent he just couldn't get it out. The other man was already suffering enough. So instead of berating him Jin opted to slip under the covers and slide his arms around Vincent. This was never romantic or emotional, of course, it was always business. That was all they could ever afford.

But that didn't mean that it never hurt him. He was so used to lying next to someone and being connected, but whenever they did this they were always so desperately far apart, Jin here but Vincent far away, his head and his heart wrapped up in a tiny spectre of biotechnology that was on the brink of death.

Jin pulled Vincent close and kissed him just below the ear. "You'll get V1 back, Vince, and you'll be okay. Caligula won't let you down," he whispered, but what he really wanted to say was _I won't let you down_, because despite being annoyed with his recklessness, despite the fact that he was starting to push Vincent in ways that were maybe verging on unprofessional, he was still deeply loyal to him. Jin had been sucked into Vincent's world in a way the others would never understand. There was a vulnerability about Vincent that no one else ever saw, because when he was like this Jin was the only person allowed to see him.

He'd never painted it in any kind of romantic light, though. He knew that he was here because if anything ever happened to Vincent, then he would take over as head of the New York cell. He was here because if Vincent was near the end, there were things he'd need to be told.

But trust was a bit like love, and Jin would take what he could get.


	6. Hurt

**Title** Hurt  
**Fandom** BZRK  
**Pairing** Nijinsky/Vincent  
**Summary** Vincent is starting to have more bad days than good, but Jin refuses to give up on him.  
**Author Notes** This is set a bit in the future, in a world where AFGC is in the process of re-wiring the population, and a world in which Vincent has lost another biot and finds himself slipping closer and closer to the edge. But for every inch he sinks, Jin pulls him back out.  
Also wanted to mention that this thing was totally inspired by the song "New Horizons" by Engineers. Do yourself a favour and check it out, it's lovely and heartbreaking and utterly perfect for a bleak future.

* * *

"Where are you, right now?" Jin asked him, heart melting at the sight of him sitting hunched up in the window seat, staring out at the ocean.

"Right here," Vincent answered, though he didn't look at Jin.

"Fully?" Jin asked, and he hated asking. But there were some things he couldn't discuss with anyone other than Vincent. Besides, he liked to think that Vincent relished the opportunity to be useful when he was able to be.

"What's the problem?" Vincent asked, finally turning his head to look at Jin. His eyes were clear, and he was aware.

So Jin pulled up a chair and sat down next to him, glad the others were out. He wasn't quite sure how to go about telling them that he was now fully certain the Japanese cell was gone. Slowly their numbers were dwindling, and he needed to review options before making decisions.

* * *

"You seen Vincent?" Jin asked Plath, who shrugged.

"Not lately," she answered. "Think he might be outside, I remember him saying something earlier about the sun."

Jin nodded but said nothing in reply, heading for the door. He stepped outside and immediately had to shield his eyes against the bright fire in the sky. He walked away from the house, down toward the beach. He scanned the dunes with his eyes, but found nothing. Usually it was the ocean that drew Vincent outside, but today Jin turned his back on it and headed for the woods nearby.

He wasn't disappointed. He found Vincent sitting on the ground, back against a tree, staring at the ground.

"What are you doing?" He asked, moving closer. Vincent didn't reply, and it wasn't until Jin was a few feet away that he saw the ants. "Vince! What the fuck!"

Vincent was sitting directly beside an ant colony, and the bugs were running up and down his arms, over his legs, some had even crawled up to his face. "I'm the bug man," he whispered, holding out a hand to Jin. "See?"

Jin took a deep breath and a step back, not really in the mood to get covered in insects. How the hell was he going to get the ants off of Vincent without getting any in the house?

"Jin?" Vincent said, a little desperately, "I'm the new bug man."

Jin nodded. "Yeah Vince, I see."

He wasn't sure how many more of these days he could take.

* * *

"Vince? You still with me?" Jin asked, eyeing his friend warily. They'd been discussing whether or not it would be a good idea to move the group, hook up with other refugees, other people fighting the war. They were secluded here, but seclusion also meant danger if anyone AFGC ever came to visit.

"Of course," Vincent said, looking at him curiously. "We were discussing the POTUS, and I already told you - Lear doesn't want me to tell you details of how we're getting to her."

Jin bit his lip. _Not right now_, he thought, _why do you always slip away from me during the important moments? _"No, Vince. That happened in the past. Don't you remember?" He didn't quite have the heart to tell Vincent that as far as they knew, Lear was now dead.

"Did it?" Vincent asked, confusion spreading across his face. "I think I'd remember that, Jin. I will tell you this much though. We're meeting a woman, courtesy of our London friends."

Jin didn't have the heart to insist this time. "Just making sure you're on your toes, Vince," he said, trying to smile, listening as Vincent went ahead and divulged their old plan anyway. Maybe he'd snap out of it.

* * *

It was just the two of them, sitting alone in the sand. Jin was contemplating whether or not he ought to go for a swim. The water might be chilly, but it was sunny out, so maybe it would be warm enough. Vincent was having a good day, so maybe he could even convince him to come along.

"Wanna go for a swim?" He looked next to him, grinning as he saw Vincent's expression shift from confused to his version of amused.

"The water will be cold," he replied, "But please feel free. I'll go get you a towel so you don't die when you come back out."

Jin smiled. Sarcasm - he'd been missing that from Vincent. "Oh come on. Are you going weak on me, Vince?"

Vincent shook his head but there was a bit of a smile there at the corners of his lips. "You're not getting me in the water."

Jin shrugged. "That's fine. Don't forget though, I know where you sleep. I can always bring the water to you." He winked at Vincent, whose teeny tiny grin spread just a bit more.

But then it fell. He looked at Jin and the expression in his eyes was serious again. "I know this isn't easy for you," he said softly, and Jin wondered what exactly he was talking about.

He shrugged but still held the other man's gaze. "You know me, I like to take the difficult path."

"I just wanted to say thank you," Vincent continued, and Jin felt his eyes get just a little watery. This wasn't some mental lapse Vincent was having. He was still here.

"You don't need to thank me," he replied, reaching out to lay a hand on Vincent's arm. "You're all I have, you know. The others all have each other, and me, I have you. So you don't need to thank me."

Vincent reached over to take hold of Jin's hand, the pressure in which he held it absolutely perfect. "But it still can't be easy for you, so I still need to thank you."

Jin laughed, fighting to keep the tears in his eyes. He didn't get many moments like these with Vincent anymore - he sure as hell was not going to waste this one being mopey and sad. "Well then, you are welcome. I'll keep fighting for you as long as you keep giving me good days, Vince. I'm not letting you sink away by yourself."

Vincent's smile came back a little and he squeezed Jin's hand a bit harder. "I changed my mind. Why don't we go test out the water after all?"

Jin understood what he was saying, what he was implying. Tides be damned - Vincent understood that no matter how swift the current was, Jin would continue leaping in after him every time and pulling him back out. He'd continue doing it until the day when the tides finally pulled Vincent under and kept him there, and when that happened - Jin would either let him go, or dive down under with him.

For now, though, they were both floating along, taking it one day at a time.

"Why don't we make it interesting?" Jin said, "Why don't we have a race? Swim out to the bend then come back, and whoever loses has to walk back to the house naked?"

Vincent narrowed his eyes and shook his head, but there was a bit of a grin still clinging to his lips. "What's in it for me?" He asked.

Jin grinned. "Absolutely nothing. I just want to see you naked."

Vincent actually laughed, something beyond rare and precious to Jin. He knew the laugh was probably forced and nothing more than a learned behaviour (because Vincent's sense of humour was physiologically non-existent) but he'd take it with open arms.


	7. Death: Good In The Hood

**Title** Good In The Hood  
**Characters** Vincent, Wilkes, Nijinsky, (mentions of Renfield, Kerouac, and Anya)  
**Rating** PG  
**Summary** The night of Renfield's death and Vincent's brush with madness leave the BZRK leader feeling the need to express his gratitude.  
**Author Notes** Really – who the hell _doesn't_ have a crush on Vincent?

* * *

"Hold on a second, Wilkes," Vincent said, leaning against the wall because he didn't have the energy to go for a chair. He was tired and worn out and wanted nothing more than his bed. But he had responsibilities, and he had to see to them first.

"Yeah?" Wilkes said, biting her lip as she stood next to him, emotions pulling her back and forth. On one hand she was happy that Vincent wanted to talk to her, and it didn't even matter what it was about. Just standing next to him, with no one else around – it was enough to make her breath catch in her throat (as much as she hated to admit it). But then on the other hand, it made her feel guilty. Renfield was dead – _dead_. She wasn't sure if she'd even processed that fully just yet. She should be upset – she was upset, but she thought that maybe she should be more upset, or at least upset enough that talking to Vincent didn't provide a flicker of warmth in her body. Fuck, emotions were confusing, and that's why she'd enjoyed Renfield – because there had been no emotions. Or at least that's what she'd always told herself.

Vincent stared at the girl next to him, still a little shell shocked from that night's events. Still a little in awe that she'd shown up when she had. She'd saved him. He needed to tell her that. "I just wanted to say thank you," he said, his eyes meeting hers for a second before her gaze flitted away to the floor.

"Oh, well, don't mention it," she said, a little stupefied that he was actually _thanking_ her. Like he was admitting that if she hadn't shown up... Well, she'd seen what Bug Man was doing. She'd tried not to think about it until now, because it was scary as shit. She'd probably have trouble sleeping for the next few days.

"I need to mention it," Vincent said, "You saved my ass tonight, Wilkes. I just wanted to express my gratitude."

This was almost too much for her to handle right now. "Yeah well, I mean, that's sorta why I'm here, right? I don't mean to save your ass, or whatever, because you like, never really ever need saving, unless you're like ambushed or whatever, but I guess shit just got too real tonight or something, I don't know." _Ugh, shut up!_ she thought to herself, _you sound like an idiot!_ "I just mean that, well, you don't need to thank me, because you'd do the same, right? We'd all do it for each other. Help out, I mean. Rescue missions, whatever." She could practically feel her face redden, cursing her stupid mouth. She could just blame it on Renfield. It wasn't that talking to Vincent made her nervous – not at all. She was just distraught over losing Renfield.

"That's true," Vincent replied, not appearing to give any notice of her rambling, "But that doesn't mean we shouldn't thank each other. Especially now with our numbers dropping," he said with a sigh, his eyes looking from her face to his hands. "I'm glad you were nearby, it was shitty timing with the new kids and all."

She nodded, even though he wasn't looking at her. "Yeah, them and then what happened to Renfield, just shitty." Should she say anything more about him? Would Vincent think it was weird if she didn't ask how he'd died? Were you supposed to ask that if you weren't there when someone was killed? Did she want to know?

"Losing Renfield is a huge blow," Vincent replied, feeling the guilt creep up on him again. He had to keep it in check right now, though. At least until he was alone.

"Massive," Wilkes replied, feeling worse the more she thought about it. He was gone. Dead. That was it. No time for goodbyes even. "How did he die?" She blurted out before catching herself.

Vincent was silent for a moment before answering the question. "He was shot. Anya was infested with nanobots, Bug Man's, and when he started losing I guess they decided to send in macro backup. I'm not even sure if it was AFGC or McLure security that shot him, I was a little preoccupied." _Trying not to die_, he didn't bother adding. Now was not the time for reflection on a nearly lost battle.

"It was Anya?" Wilkes replied, unable to help but feel annoyed. She'd heard about Anya earlier, by accident of course, wandering into a conversation between Vincent and Nijinsky. She'd only heard a few lines – but it had been more than enough to make her automatically hate whoever the hell Anya was. It was stupid, of course, just like harbouring a crush on Vincent was stupid. But she couldn't help it.

"Not her fault," Vincent said, "I should have been more careful."

"And she's back here?" Wilkes asked, a little surprised. Why the hell would Vincent keep her around? Hadn't he gotten what he wanted? The biots?

"We need her," Vincent replied, too tired to take note of the way Wilkes bristled at that comment.

"For what? She made biots for the new kids, what the fuck more do we need from her?" She knew she sounded more bothered than she should, but there was only so much she could handle in a day.

"Access to McLure's labs," Vincent explained quietly.

"I thought you had access to all of McLure's stuff?" Wilkes asked, not wanting a legitimate reason to exist to keep the other woman around. Not after tonight.

"She's a scientist, Wilkes. She'll make a good member-"

"Renfield is dead because of her!" Wilkes said with a little more emotion than she meant to. "He died because she was infested, and now you want her to join the group? You want me to have to look at her every day and know that Renfield died because of her?"

"That's not true," Vincent began, but didn't continue. He was too worn out and sick to his stomach at the moment – all he wanted to do was lie down and sleep. He wasn't in the proper frame of mind to debate Anya's future with anyone.

"It is so," Wilkes replied, feeling antsy now and annoyed. This was so dumb! Why couldn't she just drop it? Renfield was dead, she was just going to have to deal with that fact. And now Vincent was deciding to keep some stupid fucking bitch around because she was a scientist. There was nothing she could do about it – but knowing that and acting on it were two different matters altogether. "Her being here is like an insult to Renfield's life," she said quietly, biting her lip (hard enough to draw blood, though that hadn't been on purpose).

"Do you really feel that way?" Vincent asked, eyes focusing on her. He was admittedly a little confused about how harshly she was reacting.

"It doesn't matter," she replied, crossing her arms and sucking the blood from her lip. She was half tempted to transfer one of her uninjured biots there to watch the blood – maybe that visual would overrule the one she already had of Bug Man's nanobots dismantling Vincent's biot.

"Wilkes? Is there a problem?" He asked, eyes still focused on her. The last thing he needed was division amongst the group. Where the hell was Ophelia when he needed her?

She could only meet his eyes for a second and as soon as she did she felt like crap. He looked tired. He obviously was tired, given how damaged his biots had gotten in the fight. What was she doing, standing here and arguing with him? "Not at all boss," she replied, forcing a smile to her face and looking at him again before flipping up the hood on her sweater. "It's all good in the hood."

"Are you sure?" He asked, nearly out of patience.

"Yeah," she replied, smiling again before sucking her lip back into her mouth. It was bleeding again. "Sorry for yelling at you."

Just then footsteps echoed from further down the hall and they both looked up, watching as Nijinsky came toward them. Wilkes wondered if he was coming to break up what he perceived to be an argument, or if he was just seeking out Vincent. Either way, his presence made her a little nervous in this instance.

"Vincent, can we have a word?" Nijinsky asked before nodding at Wilkes. She hated it when he did that – when he just came into the room and acted like he didn't even need to say hello, when he just spoke and expected everyone to listen. It got on her nerves.

"Sure," Vincent replied before looking back at Wilkes. "Thanks again, Wilkes. We can talk more tomorrow if you're bothered about anything," he offered, but she just shook her head and turned away.

"No I'm good. Hope you feel better soon," she half mumbled before turning and walking down the hall. Vincent watched her until she entered her room before turning to look at Nijinsky, who was leaning against the wall with a grin on his face.

"I leave you for one night and you almost get yourself killed, and now you're arguing with a seventeen year old about a woman. You're slipping," he finished with a wink.

"What do you want?" Vincent asked, crossing his arms over his chest. He hated it when Jin did this, when he stood there looking smug, like he had all the answers. He was not in the mood for this, and he certainly didn't have the energy for it.

"You are absolute shit when it comes to reading people," Jin said with a grin.

"I can read you well enough," Vincent replied, to which Jin grinned even wider.

"True. But you're terrible at reading women," he said before pausing for a moment. "Are you sure you're not gay?"

Vincent rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Do you have a point to make or not? I'm a little worn out."

Jin smirked and walked a little closer. "You want to know why Wilkes is upset about losing Renfield, right? Because it seems weird to you that Wilkes flipped out so much over his death."

"She wasn't bothered when we lost Kerouac," Vincent replied, "and though he didn't die, it's essentially the same thing."

"Christ, do you not know the difference?" Jin asked, looking at Vincent in surprise.

"Between death and madness?" Vincent asked, unsure what Jin was trying to get at.

"No, between Renfield and Kerouac," Jin replied, his expression changing to something softer.

"I still don't follow," Vincent replied, looking confused.

"They were fucking," Jin said, kind of in disbelief that Vincent didn't know. Sure, the pair had never been explicit, and they certainly went out of their way to act like they didn't even like each other, but they were teenagers, and teenagers were easy to read.

"Renfield and Kerouac?" Vincent asked, though he knew what Jin meant.

"No! Renfield and Wilkes," Jin replied, shaking his head. But then he saw Vincent's lips curve up just a bit, and he knew the other man had gotten what he was saying the first time. "Fuck you," he said quietly with a smile.

"Couldn't help myself," Vincent replied. "Honestly though, Renfield and Wilkes? I thought they hated each other."

Jin went back to grinning. "Of course they wanted you to think that, they both look up to you. Renfield practically idolizes you, and as for Wilkes..." He left off with a wink.

"Idolized, Jin," Vincent replied, thinking back to the sight of the nineteen-year-old on the ground, eyes vacant. Dead because he'd gotten impulsive and impatient – because he'd underestimated AFGC.

"Yeah, yeah," Jin replied, hating that Vincent could never go for long without bringing up something upsetting. "But Wilkes is still around, and now she doesn't have Renfield anymore. Don't be surprised if she starts slipping," he said, stopping himself before he said anything more. Should he enlighten Vincent about Wilkes' feelings? While she'd never denied it, and he'd never really explicitly asked, he knew there was something there in Wilkes' head regarding Vincent. He could see it in her eyes when she looked at him. Vincent was the reason why Wilkes had always pretended to hate Renfield. The boy had done it so Vincent wouldn't think he was soft, but Wilkes had done it to hide it from Vincent, because even though he was in charge – she still had a thing for him.

Jin could understand all too well where she was coming from. He'd had a thing for Vincent for years.

"We'll just have to watch her more carefully, then. I'll talk to Ophelia about it," Vincent replied, content to think that was it.

Jin nodded, before issuing a final warning. "Don't be surprised if she's rude to Anya either," he said, wondering if that would be hint enough for Vincent. Probably not.

"I know, she blames Anya. Understandable, really. If she wants to blame anyone, though, she should blame me. I still don't know how the fuck I didn't see Bug Man earlier."

Jin just shook his head. "She won't blame you, Vince. She'll never blame you. Anya's easier for her to hate."

Vincent nodded, guilt gnawing away at him. "Yeah well, either way I'll ask Ophelia to talk to her. We can't have division."

"Anya won't drive her away, Vince. And I wouldn't really worry about Wilkes anyway," he said, because he knew it was the truth. "I'd worry more about Anya." He felt terrible when he saw Vincent flinch at the comment, and hoped he hadn't taken it the wrong way. "Listen, I know you did what you had to do. Sometimes shit happens, Vince. You did what was best for the group."

Vincent nodded. "But that still doesn't make it acceptable, Jin, and I still hate myself for it."

Jin understood that and moved closer to Vincent, deciding on a whim to reach out and draw him into an embrace. "I know, but I wish you wouldn't. We all made the choice to put the welfare of society as a whole before individual rights when we joined the group. You do what you have to, and you're doing it for the right reasons." He paused then, his arms around Vincent and his mouth next to the other man's head. He longed to press his lips to Vincent's temple, to keep them there for a moment, just a brief kiss, nothing sexual about it.

But he didn't, because that would cross a boundary he wasn't willing to risk the consequences of.

"Am I really, though? Who am I to look Anya in the face and tell her, _Hey, I'm taking away your freedom of choice because it benefits our position and we need you. Sorry for the inconvenience, but it's for the good of humanity_. I can't do that, Jin." Vincent let his head rest on Jin's shoulder, grateful for the embrace. Though it didn't really do much for him mentally, it always seemed to calm his body, it always seemed to relieve a little stress from his shoulders – and right now it was just nice to be held up by someone else because he was exhausted.

"You say that now, but you and I both know that when you go in to talk to her, you'll say it without even thinking twice, because it's the only thing you can say." He was met with silence then, and he held Vincent tightly to himself for a few more seconds before pulling away. "You go get some sleep, and I'll talk to Wilkes."

Vincent nodded and they both stood in front of each other for a moment, as though there was something else they both wanted to acknowledge, but never did. "Thanks, Jin."

Jin smiled, because it was the only thing he trusted himself to do at the moment. "That's what I'm here for," he said in reply, and their eyes met for a final time before they took off down opposite sides of the hall.


	8. Anger

**Title** Anger  
**Characters** Vincent, Caligula, Lear (mentions of Burnofsky)  
**Summary** Youth equals inexperience.  
**Author Notes**This bit takes place when Vincent is young and still the only active member of BZRK New York.

* * *

He'd expected and anticipated that there would be some changes in his thought patterns, that maybe he'd finally be able to experience a wider range of emotions than usual. But he'd never expected it to be so drastic.

"You need to focus more, kid," Caligula always told him, and it pissed Vincent off.

Pissed off. He'd never really experienced anger before this, and while sometimes it felt good (he was still hesitant about using the term good, because his version of good wasn't exactly the same as everyone else's) other times it just compounded in upon itself and he felt as though he were drowning in a sea of anger. It was strange, what having a purpose could do to a guy.

"You're good, Vincent, but you're not perfect. No one is perfect."

The words didn't help. No matter how many times they were said, no matter who said them - they never helped. The fact of the matter was that the further he sunk into his new role, the further down in the body he got - he _wanted_to be perfect. If he couldn't be happy, he might as well be the best at what he was doing.

"Come on, kid, Burnofsky's been doing this since before you were even born. Of course he'll get the better of you every once in a while."

"Whatever," Vincent said, not in the mood for some bullshit pep talk. He'd won today, of course, but Burnofsky had come awfully close to taking out one of Vincent's biots. As much as he hated to admit it, he'd been lucky today. Burnofsky hadn't been expecting him, so he hadn't brought a full contingent of nanobots. Just six spinners and two attack bots.

But he'd still made the mistake of attacking the spinners first. Focus and control, he knew Caligula was right but it still made him angry.

Caligula sat in the main room still, typing into his phone.

_How's Vincent? _was the message waiting for him, and only now did he have a chance to reply.

_Good. A little shaken up, got snappy with me. The kid's turning into a regular teenager._

_Make sure he stays focused. I need him._

_Don't you worry, he just needs a little more time to adjust to all this emotion he's never felt before. He's still deep in the cause. He won't fail you._

_Good. If he does - it's on your head._

Caligula had to laugh at that one. Lear was nothing if not blunt.


	9. Choices

**Title** Choices  
**Characters** Vincent, Nijinsky  
**Summary** It's never really a choice - but it's still better than nothing at all.  
**Author Notes** This is part of my head canon about how Jin gets recruited. I will go into more depth (eventually) in my Vincent epic, Descent. But for now - this bit. Since he has not joined yet, he is still referred to as Shane.

* * *

It's all decided in an instant – surprisingly quick and no need for a second option.

Kill him – or bring him in.

He'd brought him in.

* * *

"You expect me to live here?" Were the first words he'd spoken since the incident, and they sounded just as angry and bitter and hateful as was to be expected.

"Yes," Vincent replied, wanting nothing more than his bed. But he knew sleep was a luxury he wouldn't have for quite some time – not unless he drugged the Asian kid and somehow managed to avoid Caligula. He had answers to give.

"Absolutely not, this place is a sty." Shane stood with his back to the wall, frown on his lips. He was still in shock. Twelve hours ago he'd been planning dinner (though it had taken an hour, he'd finally decided they were going to try the French restaurant) and had been on his way back to their suite to change. Then he'd walked into the room and everything had gone to hell. He was a little ashamed to admit that his first thought had been that Clarence was fucking the other guy – jealousy was a beast that roamed a little more freely in his head than he wanted it to. Now though, he'd willingly accept a cheating boyfriend over a dead one.

Dead. Clarence was fucking dead.

"If you do well in your training, you'll be allowed to maintain off-site living quarters," Vincent replied, pulling out a chair and sitting down at the table. He was hungry, but wasn't about to go looking for food. Caligula was just as bad at stocking groceries as he was.

"What?" Shane asked, focusing his gaze on the other man. The man who'd shot his boyfriend. He should be angry (he was angry) but he kept coming back to Clarence's last few seconds. His last words. _"You need to trust Vincent, Shane. Don't die for me._" Who the fuck was this asshole?

"If you do well in training-"

"I heard you!" Shane interrupted, fingers digging into his arms. "But what the fuck _is this_? Who the fuck are you?" He didn't mean to yell. He didn't want to break down into hysterics – it was so stereotypically homosexual, and he wasn't a queen. That was why Clarence had taken him in, after all, why they'd been together. Because he could handle himself when things went to shit. But this? He was still in shock.

Vincent was silent for a moment, eyes staring up at the Asian kid. "My name is Vincent, and I belong to an organization that goes by the name of BZRK."

"I know that," Shane said, because he remembered that much. "But _who are you_?" He wasn't even sure what he meant by the question. Maybe _what are you_ would have gotten his feelings across more clearly.

Vincent didn't reply, because he had a feeling that Shane needed to vent. He would wait him out.

"I'm sorry," Shane said, shaking his head and digging his hands into his face. "This is just really hard for me."

"I understand," Vincent replied, even though, in honesty, he didn't. He couldn't.

"You shot my fucking boyfriend," Shane said, not able to look up. "You just killed him. And he was okay with it." Neither of them said anything after that, not until Shane broke the silence a few minutes later. "Why was he okay with it?" He looked up, finally meeting the other man's intense gaze. Vincent had dead eyes, Shane noticed – eyes that were devoid of any emotion. They were chilling.

"Clarence knew what was at stake," Vincent began, "He was aware of BZRK and he knew what we do. He knew why he was targeted and he knew why I shot him."

"He told me to trust you," Shane said, still wondering if he should. Wondering if Clarence had known Vincent as well as he thought he had. If only he could have asked him why.

"He did," Vincent replied, wondering if that would be enough. If it wasn't? If Shane refused to join? "But whether you choose to trust me or not is entirely your choice."

"What happens if I don't? What happens if I refuse?" Shane knew knew the answer, but he still asked the question.

"You'll die." That was the nasty truth of the matter. As far as BZRK went you were either in or you were dead – there was no in between. Lear had friends, of course, but they all took measures to keep themselves separate. Shane didn't have that luxury.

"What a choice. Live with a murderer, or die by his hand. It's like being stuck between death and madness," Shane replied, looking down at his hands. They were shaking.

"That's exactly what this is, Shane. Death or madness," Vincent said, wishing he could explain everything that easily.

Shane closed his eyes for a moment, remembering the look on the older man's face before he was killed. Remembering the look in his eyes, the desperation – _trust Vincent, Shane_ – and he opened his eyes again, meeting the other man's dead stare.

"Madness it is."


	10. Hopeless

**Title** Hopeless  
**Characters** Vincent, Nijinsky (mentions of Anya  
**Summary** Jin wonders about his motives, while completely overlooking Vincent's.  
**Author Notes** This takes place during the book, while they're in hiding at Grey McLure's beach house.

* * *

"Let's talk about Anya," Jin said, drawing a chair up to the table across from Vincent.

The other man stopped what he was doing and looked across at Jin, who was now sitting down. "What about her?" He asked with an edge of discomfort in his voice.

"What are you doing with her?" Jin asked, fully aware that he was out of line in his question. But that's why he was asking it now, when it was just he and Vincent. He'd support whatever answer Vincent gave him in front of the others, but when it was just them, alone, he had a habit of asking questions he should instead be letting go.

"That's none of your business," Vincent answered, defensive.

"You're rewiring her, aren't you?" Jin asked, and of course everyone knew that was what Vincent was doing, but Jin wanted to know just how deeply he was doing it.

"I had to," Vincent answered, cutting the defensive tone from his voice now that the shock of the question had worn off. "Lear would have ordered her killed if I hadn't."

Jin was silent for a moment, contemplating his friend. Sometimes Vincent was beyond easy for him to understand, and other times he was a complete stranger. Jin wasn't sure which Vincent he was seeing right now. "Still, I see the way she looks at you now. It's not just trust, Vincent. You could have wired her to join the team, to think of Lear like a god. But instead you chose to make her fall in love with you. Why?"

"Why?" Vincent asked back, looking at Jin with something akin to annoyance. "Because it was the easiest way, it was the quickest way. And also because I need her."

"You need her?" Jin asked, a touch of incredulity in his voice. "What, to be your personal slave?" The second he said it he wished he hadn't. Vincent's eyes blazed with a rare fury that made Jin uncomfortable.

"I'm not Bug Man," he answered, "and I need her for the team, Jin. I need her because she can access equipment that we need. It's nothing personal."

"It's personal to her," Jin answered, "Because you made it personal. You don't even realize what you've done to her, do you?" Vincent didn't respond to that, he just looked away, eyes refusing to meet Jin's. "Of course you don't, because you can't. You don't know what it's like, to be in love with someone."

"No, Jin, I don't. I'm sorry if you think my actions are harsh-"

"You're doing exactly what we're fighting against, Vince. Don't you find something wrong with that?"

There was a moment of silence then, neither man saying a word, Jin staring at Vincent, and Vincent staring at the wall. He turned back to Jin then, and there was something very close to pain in his eyes. Guilt, maybe? "What was I supposed to do, Jin? I need her to listen to me, for her own good. I'll try to change her back when this is all done."

"It's not that easy, Vince," Jin replied, feeling like an asshole for saying it. "I'm sorry for attacking you. I just kind of know where she's at, being in love with someone who doesn't return your feelings. It's a tough place to be in, and you're lucky you can't experience it."

Vincent shook his head. "I'm not lucky, Jin. I wouldn't wish this on anyone."

"Then maybe we're lucky, then. You're able to make the hard decisions that none of us can make, and you probably wouldn't be able to make them if you felt anything. It's just tough to have feelings for someone like that. Someone who literally can't return them."

Vincent eyed Jin curiously, wondering if there was something beneath Jin's words. "Who are you in love with, Jin?"

Jin stood up then, heading for the door. "I'm going out for a bit, text me if you need me."

"Jin?" Vincent asked again, hating when this happened. He relied on the other man to trust him and back him, and he didn't want to leave anything unsaid between them.

Jin paused at the door, leaning against the wall and looking back at Vincent. "It doesn't matter, Vince. It's just a guy who can't return my feelings for him. Not even if he'd want to."

The admission was a bit of a slap in the face, as far as Vincent was concerned. Sometimes Jin could be the most understanding person in the world, but then there were other times, like this, when he crossed the line. How many times had they had that conversation – how many times had he warned Jin that he couldn't let his emotions get in the way? And now this was one more thing Jin was going to throw in his face, one more let down, one more disappointment. After all, if it hadn't been for Vincent's hasty decision all those years ago, Jin wouldn't be dealing with any of this right now. He wouldn't be involved with BZRK. Vincent had taken that freedom from him.

Jin stood by the door, cursing himself for the comment as soon as he'd said it. He wasn't sure, by Vincent's silence, what his reaction was. Had he crossed the line? Had Vincent really never guessed that he'd formulated feelings for him after all this time? And why was he bringing it up now anyway – jealousy? Was he just jealous of Anya? Was that it? He kept staring at Vincent, who kept staring at the wall. He knew it was up to him to break this verbal stale-mate. "I'm sorry, Vince. I shouldn't have gone there."

"Jin," Vincent started, closing his eyes momentarily, still refusing to look at the other man, "Just because I can't love you, it doesn't mean I can't care about you."

That was unexpected. "I know," Jin answered, because there was nothing else for him to say.

"I care about all of you," Vincent elaborated, "But I care about you a little bit more." That was true – because Jin had been there the longest. Because Vincent had gotten to know Shane Huang before getting to know Nijinsky. The stress of this whole situation getting to him, Vincent leaned forward, pressing his elbows against the table top and his head into his hands. He'd had a life time of learning to deal with his constant state of depression, but that coupled with the stress of being responsible for a whole group of people was getting to be a little too much to handle. "I really need your support," he said, his voice just a touch above a whisper. "I hate myself for what I'm doing with Anya, but I honestly don't have a choice. There are too many deaths on my conscience, too many bodies. I don't want another one."

Without thinking Jin moved from the door, closing the distance between he and Vincent. He stood by him, an arm around the other man's shoulders, a hand reaching down to grip one of Vincent's. "You have my support," he whispered back, leaning forward to press his lips to Vincent's temple. "You do the things that none of us would be able to do, and I'm sorry if I let my own feelings get in the way." He was sorry. It was rare enough to see Vincent like this – vulnerable, but it wasn't the first time Jin was a witness to it. He should have known better.

"This isn't as easy for me as you think," Vincent replied, grateful that Jin had dropped his attitude. "It's never been easy, though I know you've had a hard time believing that."

"I just have a hard time understanding you," Jin said in response, "You're so good at what you do that it's hard to remember sometimes that you're not a robot. You'd think I'd be used to you by now," Jin said with a bit of a laugh.

Vincent said nothing in response, choosing instead to thread his fingers with Jin's. He hated to think of what things would be like if he'd never taken the younger man into the group. As frustrating as Jin could be at times, he was so full of life that it kept Vincent going. Jin was precisely the sort of person Vincent wanted to save, by fighting AFGC.

Jin leaned down closer to Vincent, wrapping his arm around the other man's chest. "You do what you need to do with Anya, Vince, and I'll support you." He pressed his lips to Vincent's temple again, no longer concerned about what Vincent would think of it. His secret was out, and maybe that was for the better. Maybe Vincent would confide in him more, maybe he'd share more of himself. Jin would just stick by his side and play his part, seeking out everything else he was after from someone else. An army of someone's, to make up for everything he'd never get from Vincent.


End file.
